


If you're bound and you're gagged, why don't you love me anyway?

by mikusgirlfriend



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Relationships, Blood, Blood Kink, College, Creepy, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Enemies to Lovers, Frottage, Horror, Kinky, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Not really but kind of?, Obsessive Behavior, Omorashi, Pining, Smut, These are only mentioned they never take place in this fic, Twisted, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Watersports, mentioned kinks:, messed up characters, once again not really but idk how else to tag :(, puke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27964748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikusgirlfriend/pseuds/mikusgirlfriend
Summary: Something about Lee Taeyong  never fails shivers down Jaehyun's spine. Something about the way the older always has his eyes on him, never far away for too long, just gives him the creeps. He should leave it alone. He should ignore it.And yet, when opportunity presents itself Jaehyun can't help but peek behind the curtain, peel off the skin in an attempt to unravel the enigma that is Lee Taeyong.Some secrets are better left unknown.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 29
Kudos: 99





	If you're bound and you're gagged, why don't you love me anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago idk what I think of it but I guess it's alright, and besides I have nothing better to post lol.  
> Title from Misfits 'Helena'
> 
> "If I cut off your arms and cut off your legs, would you still love me anyway?  
> If you're bound and you're gagged, draped and displayed, would you still love me anyway?  
> Why don't you love me anyway?"
> 
> EDIT works I was inspired by are uhhuhhoney’s lucky series (the first part “sicko”) and pssychotropical’s “One Step Away”

Jaehyun carefully sips at his coffee, cautious not to burn his tongue. 

“So I’m being kicked out of our apartment?” he asks. He’s trying to sound like he’s joking, but not hard enough to keep a small trace of pettiness out of his voice. He’s allowed to be a little annoyed by the turn of events.

Mark sighs, having the decency to look ashamed. One of the first rules the two had established was that there would be no kicking each other out of the apartment; Mark himself had been very clear that if Jaehyun wanted to fuck someone he’d either do it at the other party’s house or he’d have to plan it so that the intercourse took place at an hour where Mark wasn’t home. It stemmed partly from the fact that Mark had morning classes and didn’t want to be kept awake at late hours, but mainly it was because they shared a room and neither of them were sexually liberal enough to dive into the practice of voyeurism.

Then again, things are different this time because they don’t concern a nameless, faceless one-night-stand. Still though, Jaehyun would be damned if he didn't guilt trip Mark at least a bit.

“Don't put it like that” Mark mutters, weakly since he knows Jaehyun is essentially putting it exactly the way it is. He shifts in the seat, squirming uncomfortably in the way he always does when he confronts Jaehyun about anything. Mark hates conflict with a burning passion, and avoids it like the plague. Sometimes to the point where it creates more conflict than it solves. “I… please, i really want to talk to Johnny in peace. We’ve met once in like two years”

Jaehyun puts his cup down on the table with a quiet clink. He’s never had siblings, an only child through and through, and everyone he knows who has siblings has healthy, functional relationships to their brothers and sisters. His childhood neighbors, his friends throughout high school, they all had the types of sibling dynamics you see in movies and read about in books: unproblematic, normal. Jaehyun’s parents are also a textbook example of a nuclear family, and he’s had few friends whose parents are divorced. 

To put it simply, he’ll never understand Mark’s situation, never understand his feelings or experiences, or his complicated relationship to Johnny. He recalls the first time Mark talked about Johnny, and how he’d spoken about him like an old friend he’d drifted apart from and now was awkward with, rather than a family member. It had made the momentary shock of discovering Mark had a brother less prominent, as Jaehyun quickly could work out both that their sibling-bond wasn’t biological but the result of a second marriage. Moreover, any communication between the two seemed to have been practically on stand-by ever since Mark started college. 

Jaehyun guesses his inability to comprehend their complicated relationship is the reason he doesn’t turn Mark down immediately, opting to instead blow at his hot coffee in contemplative silence. 

“Where am I supposed to go?” he asks and it’s a rhetorical question: there are thousands of places he could go, the library, the nearest starbucks or a friend’s apartment to name a few. But if Mark is kicking him out, Mark is finding him a place to hang out at. Those are just the rules of Jaehyun’s pettiness. 

Mark bites his lip. 

“Donghyuck is out of town” he says slowly, eyeing Jaehyun closely to gauge his reactions. “Some debate club thing. You could-“

“No” Jaehyun swiftly cuts Mark off with, his voice silky while leaving no room for arguing. He’s being childish, and judging by the way Mark annoyedly clicks his tongue he thinks so too. 

“Let me finish” Mark grumbles, glaring at him through his lashes. “Taeyong has classes during the day”

Jaehyun feels himself flush a little. It had not been his intention to be so see-through about why he didn’t wish to visit Donghyuck’s apartment. He and Taeyong move in the same social circles, since all of Donghyuck’s friends are Mark’s friends, and Jaehyun would hate for things to be awkward just because he can’t stand the older. He thought he’d been stealthy about his discomfort with Taeyong, tucking it away neatly where his friends couldn’t see it, poke at it, pretend like it existed. Apparently not. 

Still, he clears his throat and tries to put up an act as a last ditch effort of sorts. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” he says, drawing patterns on the table with his fingertip. The words are clumsy and foreign in his mouth because it’s such a blatant lie. Jaehyun is a bad liar in general: his ears function as colour-coded lie detectors, glowing red whenever he’s put on the spot and is forced to quickly come up with an excuse. Mark seems to see through him, either because of his ears or because of the utter ridiculousness of his statement, and he raises his eyebrows. Both of them, because he lacks the ability to raise only one. 

“Sure” he says, sounding a lot like he doesn’t believe Jaehyun at all but still lets it go. “Anyway, the apartment will be empty and I know they have a stash of cookies so like…  _ please _ , hyung”

Jaehyun stares at Mark, at the way he tries to make his already big eyes even bigger in an attempt to convince him. He curls his hand around his cup of coffee and takes another sip of the bitter liquid, thinking. 

They’d lived together for a year before Mark even thought to mention he had a step brother. It had been a couple of months ago, at the start of their second year of rooming together, their second year of college. During breakfast, Mark had been making a phone call and when asked who he was talking to, Mark had casually replied that it was his stepbrother. Jaehyun had dropped his breakfast on the floor along with his jaw, gaping at Mark in sheer disbelief until Mark became stressed that Jaehyun had actually suffered a heart attack. 

In a lot of ways, it did feel like a heart attack. It had been a bomb from a clear sky, something Jaehyun had never expected. He talks about his parents, not all the time, but they pop up in conversations sometimes. Mark had never breathed a word about a sibling, barely even mentioned his parents, and Jaehyun had just assumed he was also an only-child

As to why Mark had failed to mention his stepbrother, Jaehyun had never been offered a better explanation than a vague “we just grew apart”. Which Jaehyun personally guesses is bullshit, since Mark has admitted they were very close when they were young, and Johnny’s existence seems to have been very abruptly cut out of the picture the moment Mark stepped foot onto campus. Jaehyun can only speculate that it has something to do with the fact that Mark’s mom and Johnny’s dad were both quite freshly divorced when they married, their sons at the tender ages of 11 and 13. But those are only speculations, and Jaehyun is too worried that Mark would withdraw under pressure, to push him. 

“Come on man” Mark whines, taking Jaehyun’s silence as a definite ‘no’. “I’ve met him once since I started college. I’d really, really like to speak with him, like, in private.”

Jaehyun sighs, struggling to come up with a reason to deny Mark’s request. He doesn’t have siblings, so he really can’t question Mark’s need for space and privacy. Besides, he’s empathic enough to understand that meeting someone this important for you for the first time in a year is bound to be fucking nerve wrecking. Jaehyun can only compare it to when he met his ex for the first time after their breakup. Only a couple of months had passed since the dramatic and very public split had occurred (it had involved a lot of yelling and an iced coffee that had not complemented the colour of Jaehyun’s shirt) but it had still sent Jaehyun’s nerves racing, seeing someone he’d once slept next to, and have to pretend that they’d never been anything but acquaintances.    
It’s not the same thing, but it’s as close as it gets.

“Fine” he mutters, averting his eyes to not be blinded by the grin Mark's face splits into. “Tell your dumbass boyfriend I’m eating all his cookies”

“Thanks man, I totally owe you” Mark says, which, to be fair, he kind of already does since Jaehyun is the one who takes care of the food in the apartment, making sure the refrigerator is somewhat well stocked and that Mark survives on something other than instant noodles. Because Mark is a baby who needs constant supervision in order to not mess up the simplest of things, such as the basic human instinct to eat. 

Jaehyun just shrugs, drowning his already souring feelings about this in a big gulp of coffee. It burns his throat as it goes down, and he tries to think about the cookies in Donghyuck’s apartment, the free WiFi and the fact that it’ll be completely Donghyuck-and-Taeyong-less. He can work on his essay for economics that’s due monday, raid their refrigerator with the excuse that Mark let him, and,  _ and… _

Jaehyun looks at Mark, the way the younger is gnawing at his lip, eyes shining bright as he fumbles to text someone. Presumably Johnny, to give him the happy news. His thumbs move rapidly across the screen and he looks so happy, so relieved. 

_ And let Mark have a moment of privacy to patch things up with his stepbrother. _

The sky is a steely grey, the cold winds whipping him unforgivingly in the face as he trudges the (admittedly short but still unpleasant) walk to Donghyuck’s apartment precisely an hour later. Donghyuck lives in an apartment on the other side of campus, a bigger one than the type that Jaehyun shares with Mark. It has two seperate bedrooms and a real kitchen and Jaehyun has no idea how he and Taeyong got hold of it but it would be a lie to say he’s not excited to check it out in peace. He’s been there before, but only once or twice. Donghyuck is Mark’s boyfriend, not his, and while the kid is nice he’s too mischievous and energetic for Jaehyun to fully click with him. Jaehyun is fully content to maintain their current relationship status, where they’re not friends enough to hang out alone but can participate in pleasant conversations when they happen to be in the same room.

It still confunds Jaehyun to think about how bright, loud Donghyuck with his devilish pranks managed to charm someone like Mark. Sure, Mark can be somewhat chaotic but he still has a calm and cautious approach to life, something that can not be said about his boyfriend. In many ways they are polar opposites, and while it’s an unspoken rule in their friend group not to talk about it, they definitely fight more than most couples. Not all the time, and not to the extent that Jaehyun would consider it toxic, but just enough for it to be noticable in contrast to other couples they know. Still, they make it work and it’s clear that Donghyuck is absolutely head over heels in every sense of the expression. 

Ever since they started dating Mark has spent a lot of time at Donghyuck’s apartment, but Jaehyun likes to avoid it as far as he can. Not because of his awkward relationship with Donghyuck, but rather because of Donghyuck’s roommate.

A shiver runs down Jaehyun’s after a particularly cold gust of wind and he pulls his coat tighter around himself, his shoes clicking loudly against the still rain-wet pavement. 

_ Lee Taeyong.  _

The very epitome of beauty, with big eyes that sparkle like those of an anime character, a sharp jawline and a subtle ounce of disproportion over his features, something that paradoxically enough made him even more handsome. It strips him of your regular model-looks and serves to make him look otherworldly, stunning in a way you don’t encounter among mortals. Like a fairy, having lost its way from the forest and ended up at a college, waltzing through the hallways wearing DIY-sweatshirts full of holes and homemade patches. Upon first meeting him, Jaehyun had been briefly captivated by his unique visuals as well as his shy manners, the run-in leading to an entire night of questioning his sexuality. But it had only taken one more encounter to realise that behind the smooth, porcelain forehead there wasn’t much activity, and the sweet shyness was in fact just a disguise for Taeyong’s painful awkwardness. He could dazzle Jaehyun with his ethereal looks, but once he opened his mouth, any illusion of grace or fairy-likeness shattered thanks to his stilted speech and odd choice of words. Jaehyun didn’t like to think of himself as a judgemental person, but he couldn’t help but feel like Taeyong was just another one in the row of dumb, pretty rich boys who admittadely could steal anyone’s breath away but didn’t have anythign substantial to say.

And almost the moment Taeyong’s charm faded Jaehyun had started noticing his strange behaviour towards him. How he seemed shy, squirmish, but also insistent on making conversation, even when he could absolutely not hold up one, always cutting himself off with a hideous laughter when he ran out of things to say. 

Jaehyun kicks a pebble, burying his chin in the collar of his jacket to shield himself from the cold. It sounds narcissistic, and like he perceives himself as the centre of the universe, but he sometimes struggles to shake the feeling that Taeyong has some sort of obsession with him. Unable to pick up on the clear hints Jaehyun has dropped, he seems dead set on barging into Jaehyun’s life as often as he can, always clumsily and awkwardly. 

And as uncomfortable as Jaehyun is with Taeyong, a secret little part of him, safely tucked away, enjoys the attention. The knowledge that someone as pretty as Taeyong, with heaps of admirers, has his eyes on him, platonically or romantically, is immensely satisfying. Jaehyun has heard the rumours of course: how on valentines day, Taeyong’s locker is always filled to the brim with chocolates, letters and anonymous love confessions written on pink paper. That he’s been scouted by talent agents multiple times, but that he turns them down because he wants to focus on his culinary studies. 

Yes, Taeyong is undeniably popular. Popular in a way Jaehyun thought people weren’t in college, in a way he thought was reserved for high school. With a campus as vast as SM University’s, a name really shouldn’t be passed around with such ease as Taeyong’s is, but Taeyong just has that effect. His beauty, his creativity, his shyness, his cooking skills, they all make up what many college students deem the perfect man.

It’s also the reason Jaehyun still hasn’t fully rejected Taeyong, opting to instead engage a little with him from time to time, entertaining the older’s assumed obsession in the small ways: it’s mean, but so what. Jaehyun likes the idea of being wanted. 

I’m an awful person, he thinks to himself as he fumbles with the key to Donghyuck’s apartment, fingers shaking from the nasty autumn weather, making him miss the mark multiple times before getting the key inside the lock. The hallway is dark as Jaehyun stumbles inside, and without Donghyuck’s loud voice booming through the empty spaces, filling up every crack and crevice, the apartment feels strangely eerie. Almost as if the furniture is looming over Jaehyun, watching his steps and making sure he behaves. He shakes the weird idea off.

Jaehyun closes the door and kicks his shoes off, stepping inside the apartment that, unlike his and Mark’s, is meticulously clean. The floor is void of scattered clothing and textbooks, the house plants appear well nourished and the floor isn’t littered with dorito crumbs. Jaehyun understands why Donghyuck always makes fun of their living space when he is over; as usual, their place looks straight out of an ikea catalogue. 

Peeking through the door to his left, Jaehyun sees the kitchen that is just as spotless as the rest of the rooms. The counter is wiped clean, the cabinets are shiny and there are no dirty dishes in the sink. A cute little glass jar filled with cookies is standing there, next to a potted ivy, and there’s a fucking fruit bowl, full of fresh-looking fruit that almost seem to have been arranged. Jaehyun wonders, not for the first time, if Taeyong’s excessive cleaning is something to worry about. It’s not normal for a college student to be this much of a housewife.

Seriously, not even Jaehyun’s mom keeps her fruit bowl that well-stocked.

He shakes his head to himself, walking past the kitchen to continue his little exploration of the apartment. He’s snooping, but he’s having a hard time talking himself out of it, since he’s never going to have a chance like this again.

At the end of the hallway corridor Jaehyun can spot two doors that he assumes lead to the bedrooms, as one of them is open, showing glimpses of a bed. Based on the girl group posters and the unorganized chaos that contrasts wildly to the rest of the apartment, Jaehyun guesses the open one is Donghyuck’s room. His eyes slide over to the other door, the closed one.

It’s blank, plain, deceivingly so. As if it’s trying to hide something, something sensational behind that white wood.

It’s not so much that Jaehyun wants to invade Taeyong’s privacy, and more that the closed door has an awfully strong pull on him. He can’t quite tell what it is, exactly, that makes him yearn to see what’s on the other side. It’s like his feet move on their own, without heeding his mind’s commands. Jaehyun’s mind buzzes with curiosity, he wants to open it and find the dirt that’s hiding behind it, tear down Taeyong’s perfect facade. It’s bad, so bad, that he stepped across the apartment threshold mere minutes ago and he’s already breaching Taeyong’s privacy and breaking his trust (if there ever was such). The metal of the door handle is cold against Jaehyun’s palm when he grasps it and he pauses for a moment. 

He really, really shouldn’t.

He thinks about how Taeyong always seems to flounder for a moment before talking to him, as if his courage fails him a couple of times before he finally finds the words. He thinks about that time Taeyong asked him for a photo of himself, for an art project. Jaehyun had given him a yearbook photo from last year, one where his then black hair was slicked back and he was smirking a little at the camera. Taeyong had thanked him, smiling shyly with glowing cheeks, saying it meant a lot to him that Jaehyun was willing to help him with his art project. It had been some sort of portrait-related project, Taeyong had stammered something about capturing different facial structures. 

He had never given the photo back, and Jaehyun never saw a glimpse of an art project. 

Pushing the door handle down, the door swings open and Jaehyun is greeted by the immensely disappointing view of an entirely normal room. It’s as clean as the hallway and the kitchen, the only furniture being a bed, a desk, a bedside table and a chair. There’s, surprisingly, no art on the walls, the only decorations of sort being boxes with pencils and art supplies on the desk. Jaehyun spots fabric pens, sketching tools and water colours. In the corner of the room, a huge easel is standing, covered by a cloth. The textbooks in his bookshelf are organised by colour, the floor is squeaky clean, and there are no odd socks on the floor. The only item of clothing on his chair is a T-shirt that appears to be in the process of being redesigned: it has a couple of holes cut in the left sleeve and a doodle on the back. 

Jaehyun steps inside, and frowns. 

Despite the clean look of the room, there’s a faint odour in the air. It’s strange, acidic and completely out of place against the shining surfaces of the bedroom, the carefully made bed and the neatly arranged books. Jaehyun sniffs, frown deepening: while weak, it’s definitely there. It smells like something got thrown in under the bed and was left there for a couple of weeks, slowly decaying. It’s an uncomfortable idea, because while Jaehyun spent a good portion of his first year of college sleeping without sheets, wearing the same shirts days in a row, this isn’t a regular smell of body odour. It’s something darker, more pungent.   
Moving into the room, slowly like a predator ready to pounce, he senses the scent becoming stronger, getting an almost sweet edge to it. It makes him want to retch and Jaehyun wonders what in the hell it is that smells so damn bad in this room that looks so perfect. It’s fucking weird. 

Jaehyun feels a little faint when he reaches the bed and realises that the smell must come from there. It feels ominous, and Jaehyun lets his imagination stray, thinking of what it can be that assaults his sensitive nose this way. The sheets are soft against his palms when he grabs them, pulling them off in a swift, almost glamorous movement. They flow through the air, landing on the floor in a crumpled heap, and Jaehyun stares. 

Under the covers, the sheets are stained. Big stains, some faint and some clearer, in suspicious shades of yellow, red and brown. Entranced, Jaehyun leans in. The white, crusty stains aren’t that shocking, it’s not like Jaehyun didn't leave stains like that on his sheets when he was thirteen. The yellow ones are also painfully obvious, especially with the sour odour of urine wafting over him when he gets closer to them. The brownishly black stains confuse Jaehyun until he recognises the rusty tone and telltale shape of them, and he feels dizzy because yes, it is indeed blood. Blood, and piss, and god knows what the orange, putrid-smelling stains are. 

He feels frozen, frozen in time and in place, unsure of how to respond or react. The sheets have obviously not been washed in days, maybe even weeks, and Jaehyun wonders how blood, piss and cum has gotten on them. Is it Taeyong’s? Is it a stranger’s? Does Taeyong invite strangers home and fuck them on his soiled bed that reeks of urine and god knows what else?

Does he  _ sleep _ there? 

The room is spinning in front of his eyes and Jaehyun feels nauseous. With disgust, but also with shame at the miniscule twitch his dick gives at the thought of Taeyong sleeping in these sheets. Having sex here, lying down on his back surrounded by the smell of old bodily fluids, moaning out loud as he buries his face in the stained underlays.

Jaehyun shivers, his insides curling up in violent arousal-mixed aversion. Gingerly, he reaches out to touch the pillow, cautiously dragging his fingertips across the discoloured pillowcase. Something rustles, something papery and dry, and Jaehyun feels his heart beat a little faster. 

When Jaehyun was 12, before he had his own smartphone or computer, he bought a porn magazine. Looking back at it, it was relatively innocent: just a prepubertal boy, wanting to see a pair of boobs. He’d tucked it under his pillow for a couple of weeks until he’d read it so much it was falling apart. Now, Jaehyun can’t recall what he did with the magazine, if he threw it away or gave it to an equally horny, hormonal friend. But he very clearly remembers the distinct rustling of paper when he laid his head on the pillow at night.

Nothing good is ever hidden under a pillow.

Curiously lifting it to see, his previously rapidly beating heart skids to a stop in his chest, his throat closing up in shock.

His own face is staring up at him from a crumpled picture on the bed. He recognises the picture: it’s last year’s yearbook photo, the one he gave Taeyong for an art project and then never got back. His hair is as dark as he remembers it, slicked back in a way that makes him appear older and more serious, mouth still frozen in a tantalizing smirk. The shiny surface of the photo is covered in white, crusty stains and it only takes a few moments of shock for Jaehyun to connect the dots and realise just what this picture has been used for. 

The ground seems to move underneath his feet, swinging back and forth as unwanted visuals of Taeyong jacking off spring to his mind, the picture of Jaehyun clasped between his fingers as he comes in his hand. 

Jaehyun thinks about when Taeyong had asked him for the picture. He had looked so small and nervous, curling in on himself in an attempt at making himself invisible. Had this been his end goal? Jaehyun thumbs the paper. Had Taeyong looked him in the eyes and timidly asked for a picture, knowing full well he’d be touching himself like that to it?

Jaehyun feels overwhelmed, a billion different emotions springing to his mind. Disgust doesn’t even begin to cover what he feels; he feels repulsed, sick at the display of perversion and violated by the way Taeyong has used him as a means to get off. But with the churning of his stomach he also feels something else, a heat that’s lurking in the depths of his queasiness. As horrified as the revelation makes him, Jaehyun can’t deny the arousal that’s coiling faintly in his belly, making his cock swell slightly in its confinements. He can’t figure out why he feels hot and bothered, because truly, he’s never in his life found anything about bodily fluids to be particularly sexy, not even the tame ones like saliva or sweat. Neither has he ever felt sexually attracted to a man.

Well.

Jaehyun gulps, fingers sliding over the shiny surface of the photo as he thinks of the night he met Taeyong, how those big sparkling eyes had sent his heart and mind into overdrive. He senses the texture of dried semen under the pads of his fingers and he doesn’t know if he wants to vomit or jerk off. 

Jaehyun senses the shift in the air before he hears him. It’s like the world stops spinning for a moment, freezing on its axis, and Jaehyun has the air squeezed out of him. He feels the oxygen molecules rearrange around him, feels the temperature drop with a split degree.

“What are you doing in here?”

Taeyong’s voice is high-pitched, void of stutters, and quite frankly, he sounds absolutely terrified. When Jaehyun turns around he sees him standing in the doorway, his posture rigid and similar to that of an animal backed into a corner. His usually shining anime eyes are wide as saucers, giving him an almost insect-like appearance. His gaze flits frantically from the bed behind Jaehyun to the photograph in his hands. He looks small and scared and like he’s about to stop breathing altogether.

When Jaehyun was fifteen years old, his mother caught him smoking a cigarette. She hadn’t been as upset as he’d initially feared, and since he was well-behaved otherwise she’d let him off the hook quite easily. But the memory of fear and shock that had coursed through him, ice cold, making him unable to move a single muscle, remained clear. It had been an awful moment, that split second where Jaehyun realised he’d been found out, when everything was on stand-by, allowing him to be filled with dread until time resumed its normal pace. 

Taeyong looks a lot like Jaehyun imagines he must have looked in that moment.

“I can explain” Taeyong breathes, his raspy voice mismatching his pretty face. His eyes flicker to the canvas behind Jaehyun, and the crazed, desperate glint in them is what makes Jaehyun turn around, ripping the cloth from it. 

He shouldn’t be surprised when he observes his own face staring up at him, but he is. Partly because he was hoping it wouldn’t be him, portrayed in soft oil colours, but also because Taeyong’s artistic talent is a sight to behold. It’s a beautiful painting, Jaehyun has the time to think before he notices the odd quality to some parts of the painting. The white paint in the gloss of his lips and hair has a yellowish tint to it, as well as a crusty texture. 

Semen, Jaehyun draws as a conclusion. 

“Can you?” he asks, turning back to Taeyong who looks more mortified than ever before. He’s staring off into space, pink lips parted as his breaths come out shallow. It’s like he’s going through a complete system reboot, his shock knocking out any rational responses. “Can you really explain all of this Taeyong?” 

At the mention of his name, something flickers through Taeyong’s features, so fleeting Jaehyun would have missed it if he hadn’t paid so close attention. Adoration, Jaehyun thinks with horror. The mere sound of me saying his name brings him pleasure. 

“I” he stammers, happiness bleeding from his face as quickly as it coloured it, replaced by desperation again. “It’s not… please don’t call the cops?”

It sounds like he’s speaking with a lump in his throat, something blocking his airways and making his words come out hissed. Jaehyun should sympathise with him but it’s a little hard considering the reason Taeyong has ended up in this state. 

“I promise I never… stalked you or anything” Taeyong says, cheeks growing hot. “I just… I just…” 

Jaehyun drops the cloth, letting it pool at his feet. 

“You just what, Lee Taeyong?” he asks, approaching him slowly. How Jaehyun imagines he’d be approaching a wounded animal.

Taeyong gulps, tears gathering on his lower lashes as he scrambles to come up with something to say. The humiliation evident in his features, the fear and the desperation, it all fills Jaehyun with a twisted sense of satisfaction. Whether he should be worried about his reaction or not is beyond Jaehyun, but it’s true that he’s struck with a strong urge to watch Taeyong break. 

“I just love you” he whispers and Jaehyun feels his stomach do an uncomfortable swoop. Probably the answer he should have expected, but somehow still surprising. The actual weight of the words is greater when he hears them, smacked into his face like that. 

“You don’t  _ know _ me” Jaehyun says, because he can’t come up with anything else and because it’s true. Taeyong bites his lip, looking downcast but somehow not deterred by Jaehyun’s words. 

“I know I love you” he says, voice sturdier than before, more confident. As if it’s the one thing he knows for sure. “I think about you all the time, I… I never wanted to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, I just can’t stop thinking about you, needing you, so I…”

“So you jerk off to my graduation photos?” Jaehyun cuts him off, the words spreading a sour taste in his mouth. Taeyong stops talking, cheeks turning blood red. He visibly shrinks, posture sinking into a crouch, and Jaehyun feels heat seep into his bones at the reaction he’s conjuring from the pretty boy. He balls up his fists, photo crumpling in his palm. “You touch yourself, on your filthy fucking sheets, thinking of me? Is that it?”

Taeyong looks ready to break down, fat tears rolling down his face as his breathing quickens.    
“Sorry” he whimpers. “I never… I never meant for you to see it, I was just going to…  _ fuck, _ I’m sorry okay? I’ll stop, I’ll… I’ll…”

Taeyong is near hysterics, raking his hands through his hair and ripping at it. Jaehyun feels his cock stir in his pants and takes a deep breath, walking even closer. He can see every detail of Taeyong’s skin, and it angers him to see that even up close it’s completely flawless. Under his left eye there’s a small scar, a round one that looks like a flower blooming on his pretty cheekbone. Angrily, Jaehyun grabs hold of Taeyong’s hair, softly yanking his head back a centimeter or two. He’s not quite pulling at it, but the action still makes Taeyong gasp, perhaps from shock. His silvery grey mullet is bleach damaged but still soft between Jaehyun’s fingers and Jaehyun feels disgust colour his soul as he realises Taeyong’s gasp wasn’t of pain but of pleasure, content bleeding into his features as Jaehyun tightens his grip. 

“Tell me” Jaehyun growls, low in his throat. “Did I ask you to stop?”

The next thing he knows, they’re kissing. 

It’s nothing like any kiss Jaehyun has had before: all his kisses, even the drunken party ones, have been gentle and slow, even as they progressively got deeper and wetter. They’d all been with girls, sticky with lipgloss and tasting sweetly of makeup and soda. Kissing Taeyong is nothing like that.

It’s harsh, and angry, lips pressing so hard that Jaehyun faintly wonders if they’re trying to suffocate each other. They’re breathing into each other’s mouths, nipping and biting one second only to suck the next, kissing and pushing until there’s no space between them, so close that their lips go numb from the pressure. 

Taeyong tastes bitter, like coffee, and he smells like sweat and cologne. He whimpers into Jaehyun’s mouth, doing a great job at keeping up the desperate pace, clawing at Jaehyun’s shoulders. Kissing another man is different from kissing a girl: when Jaehyun grabs Taeyong’s chin he feels a sharp, manly jawline, and when he fits his body against Taeyong’s it’s all hard lines and smooth planes of muscles. No soft curves, no boobs, but it still makes something stir within Jaehyun. 

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily without really pulling away. Taeyong opens his tear-stained, glassy eyes, his breath hitting Jaehyun’s face in hot puffs as he struggles to fully regain focus. For a moment, there’s silence and Jaehyun has the presence of mind to think that this is a horrible, horrible idea and that he’s about to do something he’s most certainly going to regret. 

Taeyong looks brittle, thin and fragile and like a single emotional gust of wind could tear down the house of cards that he is. He’s prettier than ever, cheeks dusted pink and eyes glistening, lips swollen and hair ruffled. Jaehyun thinks about how Taeyong had sounded when he said that he loved him. Such weighty words, spoken with such desperation. 

Then Jaehyun makes a choice, tugging at Taeyong and wordlessly pulling him to the bed, not allowing his thoughts to stray to the consequences of his actions. He more or less shoves Taeyong down on the mattress, watching him bounce as he lands. Taeyong doesn’t look surprised at this turn of events. Maybe he is, and is just good at hiding it, or he knew he could seduce Jaehyun no matter how much Jaehyun knew of his dark secret. No matter how bad he looked in Jaehyun’s eyes. 

The way Taeyong looks up at Jaehyun from the bed, eyes big and expression a little smug, makes Jaehyun’s head spin. 

“Take off your pants” he says, voice low and gravelly. They seem to send a shudder through Taeyong who, obediently and without questioning, starts peeling his pants off. He throws them on the floor where they land in a crumpled heap next to the bed covers. His legs are skinny and almost hairless, making Jaehyun wonder if he shaves or if he’s just naturally smooth like that. He’s wearing a pair of white boxers, only a peak of them showing under the hem of his oversized T-shirt. He’s beautiful, ethereal, and Jaehyun wants him so badly it hurts. 

He wrestles his shirt off, cursing when he gets tangled in it, fumbling with his belt once he finally gets the top off. His hands are shaking, not with nerves but with excitement and impatience. Once he’s finally in his boxers, socks thrown into a faraway corner of the room, he crawls onto the bed, feeling that peculiar mix of revolt and arousal swirl in him like toxic fumes as he feels the dirty sheets brush against his skin.

“I’m into some gross stuff” Taeyong mumbles, as if he can read Jaehyun’s mind. “And I just.. I don’t bother with cleaning them all the time”

Jaehyun takes a deep breath, slowly straddling Taeyong, letting his hands run over his warm arms, pinning his hands to the bed. 

“So you just sleep in them?” he mumbles. “In your fucking… piss and blood?”

Taeyong hums back and Jaehyun fully sits down on his crotch, feeling Taeyong’s bulge against him. A searing heat rips through him at the feeling of a cock, another man’s  _ erection _ , pressing against him. Jaehyun’s mind is reeling and he finds himself wondering why the hell he’s never done this before. Strangely, the idea of touching someone else’s cock doesn’t scare him at all, but only serves to make him more worked up. If anything, now that the situation has presented itself the only thing he can do is curse himself for not doing this earlier.

Taeyong is shivering like a leaf under him, squirming at every touch. Jaehyun is conflicted, not knowing whether he wants to kiss Taeyong or rip his clothes off immediately and have his way with him. 

“Yeah” Taeyong gasps, rolling his hips against Jaehyun’s. The friction created is miniscule but it still has stars exploding behind his eyelids, little pinpricks of heat sparking along his spine as Taeyong grinds their lengths together. “I do”

Jaehyun grunts, resting his sweaty forehead against Taeyong’s collar bone as his hips move against the other boy’s.

“Tell me” he mutters, lips moving across Taeyong’s warm skin. “What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever done?”

Taeyong groans as Jaehyun’s palms sneak up under his shirt, feeling the ridges of his ribs, the heat radiating from his rib cage. Jaehyun likes this, likes mapping out Taeyong’s flat chest and his small nipples and faint abs. Every reminder that he’s with a man makes his desire burn hotter and hotter.

The first time he met Taeyong, and found himself drowning in those big eyes for a little too long, he’d spiralled into panic. While confident in his sexuality, it was undeniable that being starstruck by another man’s appearance like that was a little less than heterosexual. Back then, it had seemed like a huge deal: a huge, scary thing that Jaehyun had been absolutely horrified about. Now, all he can think about as he tears Taeyong’s shirt off, is how hot Taeyong’s abs are, and how sexy his chest is, despite being completely flat. He feels the older boy up and dizzily registers that being with a male might not be that scary after all. 

“I- ah” Taeyong starts, sighing as Jaehyun kisses his neck, suckling roughly, nipping. “I like being, being  _ fuck _ , cut. And I l-like it when people cum on me. Or in the cuts”

Jaehyun bites down on Taeyong’s neck, hard. Taeyong whines and Jaehyun wonders if that’s what he sounds like when a stranger’s semen makes his cuts sting and burn.

“I, ah, I had a guy pee inside me once” Taeyong sighs, head lolling back to grant Jaehyun better access. Jaehyun has never had a piss kink, never even considered piss to be something arousing, but hearing Taeyong say it like that makes desire flare up in him. 

“More” he growls. “Tell me more”

He takes one of Taeyong’s nipples in his mouth, sucking at it the way he would with a girl, and to his delight his actions elicit the same reaction as they would with a female: Taeyong gasps and arches into it, ribcage fluttering as he breathes harshly.

“Um” he blabbers unintelligibly. “I like gagging on c-cock. I’ve only thrown up once but y-yeah”

Jaehyun thinks about the suspicious orange stains and moans against Taeyong’s chest, stomach churning. He slots his leg in between Taeyong, grinding his cock against his thigh. With only a pair of thin cotton boxers between his dick and the warmth of Taeyong’s firm thigh, the pleasure explodes anew and Jaehyun realises with embarrassment that he’s not going to last that long. 

“God you’re filthy” he spits out through gritted teeth, feeling Taeyong’s bulge rub against his leg. The remark makes Taeyong cling more to Jaehyun, as if being degraded brings pleasure. “You’re so fucking disgusting, do you know that?”   
Taeyong nods frantically, nails digging into Jaehyun’s skin in a way that’s sure to leave little crescent marks in his shoulder blades. It stings dully, but Jaehyun almost doesn’t feel it, too focused on chasing his high. 

“Do you like that?” Jaehyun huffs. “Hearing how twisted and perverted you are? Getting off on piss and blood, god you’re so  _ fucked up” _

Taeyong sobs, rutting harder against Jaehyun.

“More” he blabbers, his cheeks wet and eyes red-rimmed. “Please more, tell me… tell me”

“What do you want me to tell you?” Jaehyun asks darkly, on impulse roughly grabbing Taeyong’s bulge and massaging it. “That you’re a fucking slut? A whore who gets off on the most nauseating things? An obsessed stalker?”

Taeyong whines pitifully, throwing his head back in a way that makes his neck arch deliciously. Jaehyun doesn’t dare imagine how good it must feel to have his cock down there, out of fear he’ll come too quickly.

“N-not a stalker” Taeyong pants, gritting his teeth as Jaehyun tightens his grip until he imagines it must be borderline painful. Scratch that, based on the fresh tears forming in Taeyong’s eyes it’s beyond borderline. “I just… fuck I…”

“Say it” Jaehyun growls as the friction becomes hotter and hotter, sending sparks through his groin. “Say it”

He doesn’t quite know why he so desperately aches to hear Taeyong say it. It’s akin to the feeling of being let in on someone’s dirty little secret, that fluttery sensation of knowing you know something that others don’t. It’s a deep, primitive pull to hear what he does to Taeyong, this ancient obsession that has possessed him and made him do such nasty things. It’s gross, and scary, but it also ignites desire inside of Jaehyun, knowing he’s wanted by someone as attractive and sought after as Taeyong. He wants to hear it, wants to hear just how deep the older is in.

“I lo-love you” Taeyong pants, body stiffening up, whine high in his throat as his boxers become wetter against Jaehyun’s leg. His back arches deliciously and Jaehyun swears fouler words than he ever has before because Taeyong looks fucking delectable. 

The view, combined with the pleasure that’s been slowly building in a steady hum, sends Jaehyun over the edge. He comes, moaning embarrassingly loudly as he stains his boxers, stiffening against Taeyong’s frame. The orgasm rolls over him like a tidal wave, his body strung taut before he goes lax, collapsing on top of Taeyong who gives a strangled whimper by the added weight.

Taeyong is warm under Jaehyun, solid, skin a little damp with sweat. His ribcage rises and falls heavily with every deep breath and Jaehyun thinks his ribs are awfully prominent beneath him. Taeyong lifts a hand and blindly finds his way to Jaehyun’s scalp, lazily carding through the strands. 

The action makes pinpricks of discomfort shoot down Jaehyun’s spine, the whole position a little too domestic for his taste. For every passing second, the haze of lust that has clouded his mind lifts, and he starts really reflecting over what he’s done. The pleasant ball of cotton candy that’s been fuzzing in his stomach evaporates and is replaced by a heavy lump, a knot that grows tighter as Taeyong starts delicately tracing his features with a featherlight touch.

“I meant it” he says in a low voice, the words booming louder than bombs in the silence of the room. “I love you”

Jaehyun has to swallow the violent wave of nausea that hits him and he involuntarily tightens his grip on Taeyong’s bicep, squeezing it until he’s sure it must hurt the older. Taeyong says nothing, just quietly goes on.

“I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes upon you” he says, his words hitting Jaehyun like bullets. “Ever since we first spoke I’ve always known it was you, that I would never love anyone like this again. I had to make you mine, I just  _ had _ to”   
Jaehyun wants to cut Taeyong off but he can’t, frozen on top of him. Part of him feels awful, awful for letting this moment of weakness, of overwhelming lust, lead on this poor, delusional man. Another part of him though, that small part neatly tucked away into a dark corner of his subconscious, is thrilled about the news. Hearing that Taeyong is in love with him,  _ obsessed _ with him, ignites that selfish part of his soul that thrives on knowing he’s desired and thought about. Jaehyun should cut Taeyong off, tell him he’s delusional and that he needs to wake up. But he can only stare, stare down into Taeyong’s big, sparkling doe eyes, involuntarily drinking up the words spilling from his rosy lips. 

“One day, you’re going to be mine” Taeyong says with such conviction that it scares Jaehyun. It sounds like he’s already made up his mind and knows exactly how things are going to play out. “That day might be today, or it might not. But we’re going to be together, and I don’t care how long it will take. We’re going to be together and we’ll be together forever”

As Taeyong carries on talking a glint is ignited in his eyes, something faraway that gives him an insane look. It’s borderline frightening, the way Taeyong seems so absolutely sure of the fantasies he’s spewing. 

Jaehyun thinks of the time he met a devout christian who spent way too long explaining how God and the devil were real and that Heaven and Hell were concrete places. Jaehyun had thought it was all bullshit but when he saw the burning glimmer in the preacher’s eyes he’d found his own beliefs faltering, losing their shine when compared to the man’s steadily burning belief. It had been scary, scary how someone could believe so firmly in something that was impossible to prove. 

That same fear is fluttering in Jaehyun’s chest as he slowly gets up from Taeyong’s chest, hands shaking as he starts pulling his clothes on without caring about cleaning away his come from his sticky boxers. Taeyong watches his actions without saying a word or moving an inch, not even when Jaehyun fumbles with his belt for a full minute before finally managing to buckle it. He doesn’t try to stop him, doesn't do anything, but somehow, his immobility scares Jaehyun. His calmness is like Taeyong’s wordless way of saying that he doesn’t need to stop Jaehyun: somehow, someday, someway, the younger is going to come back. 

Jaehyun knows this with the uncomfortable clarity of a secret you’ve kept tucked away until it's confinements no longer can hold it and it comes bursting out with full force, leaving destruction in its wake. His fingers tremble as he puts his shirt on, his body breaking out into a cold sweat. 

“Come back to me when you’re ready” Taeyong whispers, sitting up so that his smooth chest is on display, dusky nipples pebbled from the chill air of the room. “I’ll wait. I’d wait forever if it’s for you”

His words make Jaehyun pause with his hand on the doorknob, his clammy palm sticking to the cold metal surface. He twists his head to look at the beautiful man on the bed, allowing his eyes to hungrily roam over the display of such an exquisite human being.

Taeyong’s eyes bore into Jaehyun’s.

“But we both know” he says slowly. “That it won’t come to that”

Jaehyun turns around and flees. 

At least that’s what it feels like: like a rabbit running for it’s life from a fox, like a group of sheep scattering for the big bad wolf, Jaehyun runs out of the apartment as fast as he can. He throws himself down the stairs, taking two steps at a time and nearly losing footing multiple times. He runs, he runs across campus as fast as he can, autumn air making his lungs sting as he breathes heavily. Jaehyun doesn’t know if he’s trying to run to his apartment or from his own buzzing thoughts, but he guesses it’s a mix of both. 

Jaehyun feels sick at the thought of what just happened. His own guilt over leading Taeyong on gnaws at him just as much as the newfound knowledge of Taeyong’s obsession with him. The crush Jaehyun always suspected was there has turned out to be far deeper and more disturbing than he could have ever imagined, and he fears the consequences that will come with his recent actions. 

Jaehyun doesn’t stop running until he arrives at his apartment, out of breath and sweaty, having to lean against the wall and catch his breath before he can enter. He lets his head fall backwards, meeting the wall with a soft thump as he wheezes, trying to gulp down as much oxygen as possible. 

He closes his eyes, allowing his frantically beating heart to slow down until it no longer feels like it’s trying to burst out of his body. In the dark behind his eyelids, unwanted images of Taeyong appear, visions of the boy crying under Jaehyun. Jaehyun feels a tug in his stomach, a tug of something far more dangerous than disgust or fear. It’s a hot coil of something more sinister than lust or attraction: it’s  _ want _ . Where it comes from, Jaehyun can’t tell because he knows that it sure as hell isn’t normal to want someone who’s overstepped boundaries the way Taeyong has. But it is there, and it confuses him with the way it curls around his heart like a slippery snake, squeezing. 

Jaehyun opens his eyes, shaking his head in a futile attempt to rid himself of his stupid ideas. Wanting someone like Taeyong is sure to not bring anything good. Then again, he thinks as his fingers curl around the door handle, the way an electric shock had run through him at Taeyong’s last words to him… it had been tinted with fear, fear that Taeyong was right. Right that Jaehyun would come crawling back for another taste of the madness Taeyong had to offer him…

Jaehyun pushes the handle down, the door swinging open.

He pauses on the doorstep. 

It only takes a split second for the men to notice Jaehyun’s newfound presence, springing from each other like they’ve been struck by lightning. Arms leave waists, mouths part with a soft, wet pop and two pairs of eyes widen in horror at Jaehyun who stares blankly at the scene. He recognises Johnny, of course he does. He’s seen him in pictures Mark showed him long ago, back when the topic was broached for the first time. Mark himself looks dishevelled, hair mussed and lips swollen, eyes slowly draining of life. 

For a few agonising seconds, no one moves. Then Johnny takes two steps with his long legs, grabbing his coat from the coat rack he magically teleported himself to, pulling it on with such urgency that Jaehyun thinks he can hear a seam split. When he opens the door, cold air flowing in, no one says anything, but when he slams it closed with a bang that rattles the windows, Mark seems to break out of his stupor. His cheeks colour red and he looks down on the ground, wiping his mouth and chin with his shirt sleeve. 

Jaehyun blinks.

“Aren’t you going to tell me it wasn’t what it looked like?” he slowly asks, gauging Mark for his reaction. He looks small, scared, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

The silence is heavy between them as Mark fiddles with the hem of his shirt, eyes skirting around the room and avoiding Jaehyun’s. 

“No” he mutters. “There’s no point in that, is there?”

Jaehyun observes him closely, the way he’s practically trembling. 

“No” he admits. “I guess you’re right”

He waits for Mark to say something, anything, to defend himself. To explain that it was all a misunderstanding, not what Jaehyun initially thought. That despite his earlier words, it wasn’t what it looked like. Jaehyun so desperately wants to believe that, so badly wants to think that he didn’t see what he saw. 

“So” he starts awkwardly when it becomes painfully clear that an explanation is not to come. “I saw you kissing your… your brother”

Mark’s jaw clenches. 

“Stepbrother” he corrects, voice monotone, hands balled into fists so tight that his knuckles are white. Jaehyun opens his mouth to tell Mark that it doesn’t matter, not really, because ever since Mark was 11 they’ve lived in the same house like brothers, but he decides that it’s a matter for another time. He closes his mouth slowly, searching for the words. 

“Why, Mark?” he finds himself asking, because he truly cannot wrap his head around it. Mark stares down at his sock-clad feet, cheeks blazing with what Jaehyun guesses is a mixture of shame and embarrassment. “Why cheat when you have a boyfriend who loves you? Why, out of all people, your  _ brother _ ?”

Mark’s bottom lip trembles faintly and Jaehyun can’t tell if he’s about to cry or sock him in the face. He’s tense, body strung taut and he looks like he’s about to snap. Jaehyun thinks about the time Mark nearly worked himself to death trying to cram for an exam, the way he’d looked so worn out, and it reminds him of now. Mark looks so stressed, hysteric and numb at the same time, and Jaehyun feels sorry for him. However not sorry enough to refrain from demanding answers.

“Don’t you get what this looks like?” he asks in a desperate last-ditch effort to get answers out of a stubbornly silent Mark. It seems to do the trick as Mark glances up at him, unruly eyebrows knitting together in a disgruntled glare. 

“What are you implying?” he asks venomously, daring Jaehyun to say it. “Tell me Jaehyun. What,  _ exactly _ , does it look like?”

Jaehyun swallows, not used to Mark being this confrontational. It’s not like him. Then again, this entire situation is nothing like any position Jaehyun’s ever been in. 

“It looks” Jaehyun says measuredly, trying to not sound accusing. “Like your older brother is taking advantage of you”

It seems to take a few seconds for the weight of the words to fully sink in, Mark’s skin paling in time with the realisation. If not for the ugly conversation it’d almost be a little funny, seeing Mark desaturate a little more for every passing split second. It’s like all of his blood leaves his upper body and travels to his feet, maybe even past that point and onwards to the centre of the earth: dragged there by the gravitational pull of Jaehyun’s words. 

“What the-” Mark breathes, tongue fumbling and struggling to properly shape words. “I… why would you say that?  _ How dare you?” _

Mark looks shell-shocked to say the least, and Jaehyun instinctively throws his hands up in the universal gesture of innocence. 

“I never said that that’s the case” he defends himself. “I just pointed out that that’s what it looks like”   
He leaves the rest unsaid, but he can see the cogs turning in Mark’s skull, the unsaid ‘unless you explain yourself, that’s what I’m going to assume’ hanging in the air between them. Mark bites his lip. 

“We…” Mark starts, voice wavering and unsure. “It started when we were like… 16. Well, I was 16 and Johnny-hyung was 18”

Jaehyun feels a twinge in his gut. Partly at the way Mark so softly uses the word ‘hyung’ as if it’s something precious, partly at the things he’s saying: while Jaehyun himself lost his virginity at 16, it wasn’t with his legally adult brother. 

“Jesus christ” he mumbles, burying his face in his hand, massaging his eyebrows. Mark must panic at his reaction because he scrambles to continue.

“It was… it wasn’t Johnny’s fault” he croaks out, voice shrill. “It was… “

Mark gives what sounds like a sob and Jaehyun glances up at him, feeling a little guilty for pushing him in this way about a subject he clearly was never comfortable talking about, even back when it wasn’t complicated, back when he seemingly had a regular sibling-relationship with his brother. 

“I was always obsessed with him” Mark whimpers, Jaehyun’s stomach churning uncomfortably. “When we first met, back when we were just kids. Hell, I fucking worshipped the ground he walked on, I always wanted to be with him. And as we got older, I started approaching it differently but I… it was still the same. He was always the only one on my mind”

Jaehyun almost wants to take his words back, ask Mark to stop talking because he feels nauseous, sick by the insane things spilling out of Mark’s mouth. 

“I never… I never intended anything to happen”

Mark almost sounds like he’s defending himself, as if Jaehyun is accusing  _ him _ for something. 

“I know it’s not exactly normal to think of your brother when you’re touching yourself like… like  _ that _ , but I never planned on doing anything about it”

Mark is wringing his hands, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and looking so deeply, deeply unhappy. His eyes are glossy, his breathing shallow.

“It just happened” he whispers. “Once, then twice, and then a couple more times. It was never Johnny’s fault, it was always my initiative. But he always blamed himself for it”

Jaehyun takes a deep breath. 

“Did you have sex?” he asks, and it’s an invasive question, he knows, but he wants to know. He needs to know. 

To Jaehyun’s relief, Mark shakes his head.

“We kissed” he mumbles. “Jerked each other off a couple of times. I sucked his dick once but… we never had sex. Not like, penetrating anal sex.”

Jaehyun’s head is swimming with this information. For some reason it feels reassuring that they haven’t had proper anal sex, like there’s still one boundary they haven’t completely demolished. But there’s so much wrong with this, so much that goes deeper and beyond Jaehyun’s initial assumptions. When Mark speaks about his brother, he does so with a warm, soft murmur, a fondness seeping into his stressed, terrified voice. It’s a fondness Jaehyun can’t remember him ever looking at Donghyuck with, at least not to this extent. It’s strange, and alien, and Jaehyun doesn’t even really want to think about it because having a sexual relationship with a sibling is bad enough. It really doesn’t need to be further complicated. 

“Was that why you cut your family off?” Jaehyun asks. “Why you never talk about them?”

“It’s not Johnny” Mark scrambles to immediately defend his brother. “He never took advantage of me or anything. I just… I needed space. I was confused and scared, of myself that is, and needed to just get away from everything. I thought…”

Mark bites his lip, distressingly running a hand through his hair. 

“I thought that if I got away and got myself a boyfriend, these feelings and memories would fade” he finishes quietly. 

“Have you told Donghyuck?” Jaehyun asks and a spark of annoyance glints in Mark’s eyes, his head shooting up. 

“Yes” he says and Jaehyun stares at him, shocked until Mark carries on. “I told him I’ve kissed my brother regularly since I was 16 because I’ve been attracted to him since I was a teenager, and oh, did I mention it happened when we got together?”   
The obvious sarcasm leaking into Mark’s voice makes Jaehyun understand. 

“So you’ve cheated on him” he says, before Mark’s words fully sink in. “Multiple times?”

Mark blushes and looks away, annoyance melting off him as shame settles in his expression. It gives him away before he can even answer.

“Twice” he admits. “The first time was last christmas, when I met Johnny for the first time since I started college. The second time was today”

Jaehyun tries to comprehend it, he really does. But it’s so backwards to him, how someone with such a perfect relationship could throw it all away for something as twisted as a sibling. 

“Donghyuck loves you” is everything he can come up with. “He really, really does”

Mark sighs, deflating like a cornered man, someone who knows he’s doing something wrong and can’t defend himself in any way. 

“I know” he says. “Trust me, I do and I feel awful for doing this to him”

“And yet, you continue” Jaehyun points out, his remark causing Mark’s eyebrows to twitch.    
“You don’t get it” he grumbles. “I wanted to talk to him today. Tell him we should stop this. Put a final end to it, breaking it off completely instead of just running away from it like I did after high school”

He tapers off, Jaehyun patiently waiting for the inevitable ‘but’.

“But somehow” Mark says, gazing off into space. “I found myself doing the opposite”

“Mark” Jaehyun says helplessly. “You have to stop it. It’s not fair to Donghyuck. You’re leading him on”

Mark’s eyes are drawn back to Jaehyun’s face, narrowing. 

“Like you with Taeyong?” he asks and it feels like someone’s dumped a bucket of ice cold water over his entire body. When Jaehyun was a teenager he fell into a lake once, clothes on and everything. It was an accident, and the way the cold water had enveloped him, making his clothing heavy on his body, would forever be imprinted in his memory. The way he’d been shocked by the icy wetness consuming him, the way panic had seized him as his mobility was reduced by soaked clothes, it all reminds him of now: shocked and rendered speechless by Mark’s bold claims. 

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun asks nervously, wincing at how guilty it sounds, even to his own ears. Mark just rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t play dumb” he says. “I know you want him to want you. I don’t know why, if it’s to boost your ego, or if you deep down like him despite pretending like you don’t, but I see the way you string him along. The way you feed him just enough attention to keep him hooked. It’s like you slip him tiny doses of a drug, not enough to really give him a rush, but enough for him to keep craving the high. It’s  _ sick _ .”

Jaehyun can’t speak, too shocked. Just how could Mark tell? He thought he’d hidden it so well, buried it deep within where no one could find it. 

“And don’t think I can’t tell you’ve had sex” Mark adds, like a final blow.  _ Knockout _ . Jaehyun winces, unconsciously reaching up to smooth out his hair, as if the damage isn’t already done. “Who’s really the fucked up one between us?”

Jaehyun glares at Mark. 

“I stand by what I said” he says with as much dignity as he can muster. “It’s immoral to cheat, and with your goddamn brother of all people. You need to stop, and you need to tell Donghyuck”

Mark loses a little of his newfound confidence, clearly faltering. It’s a little like watching him lose psychological balance, the mental footing, for a few seconds. Then he regains balance, looking away with shame colouring his features. 

“You can’t make me do anything” he says childishly, petulantly. 

“No” Jaehyun agrees. “You’re right, I can’t. But I can tell you to do something, because something needs to be done”

Mark’s eyes are glassy, a zoned out, faraway look over his features. It’s like he’s under a spell, entranced by the grey skies outside. 

“I was unable to deal with this two years ago” he says, voice so hollow that it almost doesn’t sound like him. “Why would it be different now?”

And Jaehyun opens his mouth to respond but no sound comes out, simply because he doesn’t know what to say. Mark is right: if he hasn’t learnt how to deal with it since the last times, how is he supposed to magically know now? 

It’s not like Jaehyun has his shit together. He was supposed to just stay out of the apartment, but ended up having sex with someone who’d invaded his privacy, probably inflating their obsession with him. When it comes to manipulating people, he’s probably just as bad of an apple as Mark. 

“You won’t tell people, right?” Mark, sounding unsure of himself, before quickly adding “If you do, I’ll… I’ll tell people about you and Taeyong”   
It’s an empty threat, but it still makes a wave of ice cold fear wash through Jaehyun.

“There’s nothing to tell people about” he hisses. “There’s nothing between us”

“Not yet” Mark says, his words hitting Jaehyun in his Akilles’ heel. “But there will be, won’t there? You’ll be back”

Jaehyun wants so badly to deny it but he can’t, he can’t because it’s true: he can feel the pull, the urge to go see Taeyong again, have him like that again. Squirming under him, on soiled sheets, whispering dirty things that make Jaehyun feel in control. He almost goes dizzy from the sheer force of how badly he wants, the desire for the fucked up things Taeyong makes him feel causing his head to spin. Jaehyun almost can’t breathe, and he feels so disgusting for all of the things he thinks about but he can’t help it.

“You’re sick” he manages to wheeze out, and it’s lame but it’s the only thing he can come up with. Not that it’s untrue: he recalls the way Mark’s arms had been looped around Johnny’s neck, Johnny’s large hands resting securely on Mark’s waist, the way their lips had been sliding wetly together… 

“That makes two of us” Mark says quietly and Jaehyun can’t take it anymore. He turns around and, like the coward he deep down is, flees to his room. His blood is roaring in his ears as he throws himself on the bed, heart pounding. Part of him almost thinks Mark is going to follow him, but a couple of moments of silence is enough to establish that that’s not the case.

Jaehyun has the time to calm down somewhat when his phone buzzes, making him jump a little. His fingers shake a little as he pulls it up, making the tiny words on the screen blurry and hard to read.

It’s from an unknown number, he notes with a sinking heart.

_ You forgot your jacket here. When will you come get it? _

Jaehyun shouldn’t answer. He should ask Donghyuck to get it when he comes back from the trip, or ask Mark to retrieve it for him. What he should do is to block the number and avoid Taeyong at any cost for an unforeseeable future. 

What he shouldn’t do is unlock his phone with trembling fingers, typing back. 

Memories and fantasies flood his mind, blending into scenarios that he doesn’t know if he’s been through or if he’s making them up: Taeyong naked, on his back on stained sheets. Taeyong on his knees, choking as a faceless stranger forces his cock down his throat, saliva and vomit trickling down his chin. Taeyong kissing him, wet and slick and all-consuming. Taeyong moaning as a stranger stills inside of him, hissing as a wet warmth slowly fills him… 

_ When can I come? _

Jaehyun presses send and stares at the screen, ignoring the nagging feeling that he’s making the biggest mistake of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that mess. I know, the 'plot' is all over the place and the johnmark thing is a weird loose thread I pulled out of my ass but yeah leave kudos and comments or smth lol love ya <333


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